Mission accomplished.
Final word count is 91,970 words, which means I wrote 1,362 words tonight. (It's amazing what you can do when you stop pissing and moaning and making up excuses. And by "you", of course, I mean "me". Or rather, "I", if I want to be a grammar-Nazi about it. And, given that this is a writing blog, I kinda do.)
Having done that, I'm hauling my fat arse into bed.
And again, Happy New Year.
-- Cris
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Apropos, and by the by...
I just reached 300 pages in Courier New/Times New Roman, 12-point font.
That's pretty cool, and the most I've ever written for one story.
Allow me a second to pat myself on the back...
*
*
*
..aaaaand now it's back to writing.
--Cris
That's pretty cool, and the most I've ever written for one story.
Allow me a second to pat myself on the back...
*
*
*
..aaaaand now it's back to writing.
--Cris
Happy New Year
It's six thirty in the morning, and I'm tired as all getout, but I haven't written anything substantial in days, and I'm beginning to feel like I'm dodging the draft, or something. To alleviate this feeling like there's a hornblower biding his time in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to spring forth and reveal me for the fraud that I am, I'll write a thousand words, and hope it makes me feel better.
The deadline's still Jan. 31st.
It's the new year, and I'd really hate to start it with a big lie. So Jan. 31st is the final deadline. No more extensions. No more excuses. Scamper is done by then, or it won't be, and either way, I'm moving on to something else. The whole point of the deadline was not to finish the book (which would be swell), but to put a finite date in mind, after which I would put all writing on the backburner and focus more on my art. I've been drawing for years longer than I've been writing, but my drawing is still little better than rudimentary.
I don't know if I still want to go to art school (and the art school in New Jersey is a BIG question mark), but I want to be a better artist than I am, and whether I do it on my own or in a school, there has to come a point when I put drawing before writing, and that won't happen if I'm hung up over the last chapter, or that last paragraph, or finding just the right word (there's never a right word. It's a fairy tale. Like Santa Clause. Or Jesus).
Well.
There it is. January 31st.
Put it on your calendars.
--Cris
The deadline's still Jan. 31st.
It's the new year, and I'd really hate to start it with a big lie. So Jan. 31st is the final deadline. No more extensions. No more excuses. Scamper is done by then, or it won't be, and either way, I'm moving on to something else. The whole point of the deadline was not to finish the book (which would be swell), but to put a finite date in mind, after which I would put all writing on the backburner and focus more on my art. I've been drawing for years longer than I've been writing, but my drawing is still little better than rudimentary.
I don't know if I still want to go to art school (and the art school in New Jersey is a BIG question mark), but I want to be a better artist than I am, and whether I do it on my own or in a school, there has to come a point when I put drawing before writing, and that won't happen if I'm hung up over the last chapter, or that last paragraph, or finding just the right word (there's never a right word. It's a fairy tale. Like Santa Clause. Or Jesus).
Well.
There it is. January 31st.
Put it on your calendars.
--Cris
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